grilled

Let’s say you and I get into it over pizza. We hash it out over the best pizza we’ve ever had. We talk about Naples, and LA, and both agree that New York beats Chicago, unless you want a casserole, then Chicago pizza will do.

And then I tell you that the best Ray’s pizza in New York is the one at 4th and Houston, to which (if you’re a New Yorker) you recoiler in horror that I’ve chosen said Ray’s instead of one of the 147 other Ray’s in Manhattan.

We finally just agree to get a beer and pizza and call it a day. Nowhere in our spirited conversation do we mention Seattle. Because the thing about Seattle is that beer is world class, so is the coffee and the produce can’t be beat, but the pizza…

We’ll just talk about the beer and the coffee and the produce and leave talk of the pizza out of it shall we? Similar to a discussion of the best people in the world named Joe wouldn’t include talk of either Buttafuoco or Francis. Let’s just stick to the good stuff.

Of course I have a theory about this. The same water that makes the beer fantastic and coffee legendary isn’t so kind with the pizza dough. But here is the thing about baking your pizza dough with beer, wherever you go in the world, your dough will be the same.

Water is for the weak, switch to beer and your pizza dough will become the stuff of folklore.

Oil the grill (alternately, you can oil the flatbreads). Grill one side of the flatbread until grill marks appear, about 2 minutes, flip and very lightly grill the other side, about 30 seconds, remove from grill. Place the flatbreads on a flat surface with the well grilled side facing up. Top with barbeque sauce, cheese, chicken, sliced apricots, cilantro, and onions. Place back on the grill, close over, cook until cheese has melted.

I was once invited to leave The Viper Room when the guy I’d been chatting with escalated past douche bag right up into unignorably obnoxious territory and I was swept up in his wake.

I not so subtly parted ways with him to cross the street towards The Roxy when he escalated further,”You’re leaving?! I pulled out my best stuff for you!” I had no idea that he’d been trying to get somewhere with his meaningless rambling.

Oh, you mean the uber-impressive story about having lunch with Alan Thick last week? Or telling me that your ex-girlfriend was a sexsomniac?

Or bragging about stealing wifi from your neighbor? Because it was all gold, so clearly I have no reason to leave with this depth of conversational wealth that’s being offered to me.

Sometimes, people just try too hard when what they really want is to impress. We can do the equivalent of Over-Sharing-Drunk-Viper-Room-Guy with food. We can try too hard, do too many things, and make a mess of it all.

Keep it simple this summer, some grilled produce, good ingredients, real butter and great beer.

And save the stories of your ex-girlfriend for your guy friends and only after they’re too drunk to object.

Chances are, if you’ve spent anytime within stumbling distance of a Craft Beer Lover, you’ve heard the word “hops” thrown around like a rag doll. You may have been leery asking the “What are hops?” question for fear that you’ll be subjected to the mad beer-geek ramblings of your semi-inebriated friend. So, here I am to save you from the possibility of a lecture on beta, delta, and gamma resins whist trying to hide your shell shocked expression, with a quick and dirty introduction to this essential beer ingredient.

Hops are a flower that comes from a plant in the marijuana family. It’s believed that they were originally added as a preservative when trying to make water safe to drink, but due to their uniquely bitter flavor, the use became more about taste than preservation.

Hops have a very specific taste that comes from the oil and gives beer it’s bitterness. These levels of bitterness are measured along a scale called the International Bitterness (or bittering) Units, that we just refer to as a beers “IBU’s.” Generally, the higher the IBU’s, the more bitter the beer. That bitterness is used to counter the sweetness in the sugars used to feed the yeast, and it’s that balance that dictates how “hoppy” or bitter a beer tastes, more so than the amount of hops used. For instance, most stouts have a very malty taste (malt, essentially, is the opposite taste of hops), but can have a very high IBU rating. Think of this like weather, the same temperature feels much colder with the wind chill factor. Beer tastes much more bitter without a malty balance. IBU’s are only one indicator of what’s in store for you, bitterness wise, but isn’t always a linear expression of experience.

Hops can be added at various phases of the brewing process and are often added more than once while the beer is being made. If you hear the term “dry hopping” it really has nothing to do with the hops being actually dry, it means that the hops were added at the end of the brewing process and steeped like tea, giving a bright floral taste to the beer, rather than a strictly cooked hop flavor. Most likely, the hops were also added previously in that brewing process and the dry hopping was purely for that bright hop flavor and an extra kick of bitterness.

Hops can be used in the flower state, but are commonly used after being compressed into a pellet that looks like food for a small furry pet. The highest concentration of US hops are grown in the Pacific Northwest. If you’re driving through Oregon and see long green vines strung up on tall wires, you are probably looking at the makings of beer’s most notable ingredient.

Oh, and hey, I have some food for you. Thank you for indulging my need to Beer Geek Out for a few paragraphs. Because I’m so nice, I gave you both the oven and grill methods as not to taunt the grill-less causing Sad Face reactions across the world.

This chicken was great from the oven, but I have a huge crush on my grill right now so the win goes to grilled.

In a large bowl whisk together the buttermilk, 12 ounces pale ale and salt. Add chicken, cover and allow to sit at room temperature for 30 minutes (if all ingredients are cold from the fridge, this is not long enough from any foodborne pathogens to form). Alternately, chicken can also be allowed to soak in the fridge for 3 to 6 hours.

Rinse chicken well with cold water, pat dry.

While the chicken is soaking, make the glaze. Add the sesame oil to a pot over medium high heat, add the garlic, stir. Add the stout, soy sauce, honey, hoisin, smoked paprika and sriracha, bring to a boil, stirring frequently until thickened, about 8 minutes.

Oven method:

Preheat oven to 425.

Heat olive oil in a skillet over high heat until just starting to smoke. Add the chicken (working in batches if necessary) and sear on all sides until browned, transfer to a baking sheet that has been covered with parchment paper or aluminum foil. (note: browning the chicken before the oven will help you to avoid rubbery, chewy, skin on your chicken).

Brush the chicken on all sides with glaze. Cook for thirty minutes, removing chicken from the oven and re-glazing every ten minutes. Cook until internal temperature reaches 165.

Grill method:

Preheat grill to medium high.

Brush the grates with olive oil.

Brush chicken on all sides with glaze.

Place on hot grill, close the lid.

Turn and brush with glaze every 2 minutes until cooked through, about 8-10 minutes.

There are some great elements in this world we live in that we beg the universe to some how bring together.

Like a Yankees vs. Dodgers World Series

Or an episode of The Office directed by Christopher Guest

Or Trey Parker have complete creative control over The White House Holiday Card

Or a reality show hybrid of The Bachelor and Fear Factor

Even though I have to come to terms with the fact that those things will sadly never exist, I can meld brown butter and beer cheese into the greatest of all grilled cheese sandwiches. It won’t have the cultural repercussions of any of the above unions, but it is the best sandwich I’ve had in a long time. Too bad I didn’t have the forethought, or the consumptive restraint, to create a beer tomato soup to go along for the journey.

In a blender or food processor add the cream cheese, mozzarella, cornstarch and beer. Blend until smooth, about 3 minutes. Spread the beer cheese generously onto 4 slices of bread. Top with about 2 tbs of cheddar and then top with a clean slice of bread.

In a skillet with a lid melt the butter over medium heat (don't allow the butter to get too hot or it will burn) until just starting to turn a golden brown. Carefully add the sandwiches, and replace the lid allowing the sandwiches to steam in the pan until the underside is golden brown, about 3 minutes. Flip the sandwiches, replace the lid and allow to cook until the other side is a light golden brown and the cheese is melted, about 3 additional minutes.